Two Brothers
by Rantel
Summary: The untold back story of Iroh, Ozai, and the Fire Nation Royal Family


Iroh was awoken by the smell of home.

The Crown Prince had travelled extensively in his twenty-one years, from the frozen poles where the Water Tribes eked out their meagre existence, to the vast deserts and impenetrable forests of the Earth Kingdom, to the majestic mountain peaks that held the ruins of the great Air Temples, and plenty of the endless salt sea in between. All of these places had their own particular smells, no two exactly alike. On the eve of every great battle, Iroh would stand at the edge of camp and just inhale and exhale, sometime for hours; you could learn a lot about a place by how it smelled. But the volcanic smell of the Fire Nation was one Iroh had sorely missed since leaving home five years earlier to fight his long-dead grandfather's war.

The smell of the steamship on which he had been travelling for the past three weeks was something of a shadow of it. At first, he had been grateful for this little piece of home, but it had quickly become torturous, feeling so close and yet so far, and had made him all the more anxious for his journey to be at an end. But that morning, as he stirred in his bunk, he had faintly smelled the real thing, so much fuller and warmer and more _alive_ than the cold dead ship, and it had roused him immediately. Iroh smiled to himself as he strode up across the deck, and watched as the Imperial City slowly grew larger in the distance. He relished the thoughts of revisiting his childhood haunts, knowing nothing would have changed; nothing ever changed in the Capital. He imagined how pleasant it would be to leave the war behind him and act royal again, with servants attending his every whim. And of course he couldn't wait to see his parents again, and meet the new addition to their family.

That was what had called him home again after five long years. He remembered his surprise when the news had reached his regiment, three months earlier, that Fire Lady Ilah was with child at the unlikely age of forty-six. Iroh had always wanted a sibling; his childhood had been a lonely one, relying mostly on the palace guards for company. He wished his parents hadn't waited quite so long, but he wasn't about to start complaining now. He vowed to spend as much time with this brother or sister as he could, to teach them, laugh with them, truly from a bond with them. Iroh knew his mother would delight in this new child, and hoped that it might give his father some joy in his advancing years. Fire Lord Azulon had been just a toddler when Grandfather Sozin had struck the first blow of the war; he'd grown up during the most brutal and relentless years of combat, and had not even reached his twentieth year when Sozin's death had dropped it all squarely on his shoulders. After forty years of directing an endless war that engulfed three quarters of the globe, a baby might bring some much-needed new life to the old man.

Iroh could barely contain his excitement as the ship finally pulled into the harbour; here was one place the war hadn't touched, one place that had remained as a beacon of civilization while the rest of the world fell into chaos. He never thought the sight of ordinary fishmongers going about their business could seem so beautiful. By the time the ropes had been tied off and the gangplank lowered, Iroh was practically skipping. He could see that a palanquin was already there waiting for him. The bearers were all new faces, but he recognized the man inside: Jao Lei, the Fire Lord's steward and one of his most trusted advisors. He looked grim and businesslike, as usual.

"What? This is it? They sent _you_, a lowly palace official,to meet me?" Iroh joked. He had always liked the older man.

"Good morning, my prince. My humblest apologies for the inadequacy of this greeting party, but the greater part of the Fire Lord's court are needed at the palace. There has been much disarray these past days." Jao Lei looked straight ahead, and spoke with the stiff formality that he always used in public. Behind closed doors, he was a much shrewder individual than most suspected, and that was part of what made him such a valuable counsellor. But today, there seemed to be something a little off about his behaviour. It made Iroh vaguely uneasy.

"It's good to see you again," Iroh said as he climbed into the palanquin. "After so much time away, I can't tell you what a pleasure it gives me to see a familiar face."

"It is good to see you too, Prince Iroh. You've gained quite the reputation for yourself. There were some who doubted your fitness for command at so young an age. No such objections have been raised since your exploits at Wanji and Cao She."

"I have you to thank for that, old man," Iroh replied.

"How do you mean?" asked Jao Lei, looking mildly surprised.

"You were my teacher when I was a child," Iroh responded. "You taught me to be a scholar. Too many of our commanding officers sneer at scholars, but with the Fire Nation Army constantly expanding into new and unknown territory, we can't afford not to learn everything we can about the enemy. Every spare moment I've had in these past five years has been spent studying the other nations: their lands, their histories, their cultures, anything I can get my hands on. It's been more valuable to me than any of my military training. I truly believe that if we encourage more study among our top generals, our victories would come much more swiftly."

"Well, if you keep at it, perhaps you'll be the one to finally win this war," smiled Jao Lei, but there was something else behind his smile; a certain sadness about him. Or was it pity?

"Enough talk of war!" exclaimed Iroh. "I didn't travel across half the planet to compare notes on military theory. You know what I'm here for. Has my brother been born yet? Or do I have a sister? Come, tell me, old friend!" Something about the look of apprehension on Jao Lei's face just then stopped Iroh dead in his tracks.

"What's wrong, Jao Lei?" Iroh asked all of a sudden. The older man merely lowered his head slightly and said nothing. "Is it my mother? Is it the child? What's happened, Jao Lei?"

"We are here," the steward responded as the palanquin came to a halt. "Your father will wish to see you."

"I should go to my chambers first, make myself a little more presentable," Iroh said, still put off by the Jao Lei's lack of response.

"No. He wishes to see you immediately."

Iroh followed Jao Lei into the opulent palace, too concerned to feel any further nostalgia for the place. They walked in silence through the strangely deserted corridors, and Iroh knew he would get no further response from his companion. He wished Jao Lei would just tell him what had happened; not knowing was so much worse. It allowed the imagination to run wild, conjuring every possible scenario, each more horrific than the last.

To Iroh's surprise, they went neither to the throne room nor the royal apartments but his father's war chamber. There couldn't be a meeting going on, could there? Perhaps some terrible news had come from the front while Iroh was travelling. Maybe that was what seemed to be weighing so heavily on Jao Lei.

"Enter. The Fire Lord is expecting you," said the steward ominously, and then stood aside.

Taking a deep breath, Iroh pushed the door open and walked into the room, which at first appeared to be empty. A single candle burned at the far end of the great war table, and it took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness. It was only then he realized that his father sat hunched at the head of the table, his lowered face masked in shadow.

Iroh bowed deeply.

"My Lord," he said, very formally, just the way his father liked. "I return home, as ordered."

"Get up," said Azulon brusquely, his voice more ragged than Iroh remembered. "Come over here, son."

As Iroh approached, his father raised his head slightly to meet his eyes, and Iroh could barely repress a gasp. He had never seen Azulon like this. He looked dishevelled, broken; for the first time, he truly looked _old_. As he came to stand beside his father, Iroh wondered whether he had actually been _crying_. And in that moment all of Iroh's worst fears came true.

"She's gone, Iroh," said Azulon as his voice broke. "Your mother is dead."


End file.
